Christmas Wishes
by Pieholer
Summary: Chuck can't decide what to get Ned for Christmas


Christmas Wishes

Stepping back after hanging the last bough of Christmas evergreen over the kitchen door, Chuck sighed in satisfaction at her holiday decorating efforts. The dining area sparkled with colorful Christmas lights, holly branches, Santa Claus cutouts and, in each window, a small light-up menorah.

Unlike at Halloween, Ned had encouraged her need to deck the halls – uh, the Pie Hole. He especially seemed to appreciate the small tree and trimmings she had artfully arranged in their apartment.

"I haven't had a Christmas tree since…" he said, almost to himself. Then to her, "It's nice. Very nice in holiday kind of way. In a homey kind of way." And he smiled that crooked grin he had that made her forget to take a breath for a second, or two.

She knew that, because he'd mostly grown up in boarding school, Ned hadn't had much of a home since the death of his mother. In a way, making their shared living space homey was her way of giving him back that feeling. It also helped fill the hole in her heart where she missed her aunts, the wobbly menorah they would light every Chanukah, the traditional songs they'd sing in silly voices and the holiday cheeses they nibbled throughout the season… Tears swelled in her eyes at the memories and she vowed not to think about them right now.

Instead, Chuck walked into the kitchen dragging the now-empty decoration boxes and put them in a corner. Ned turned around from taking a pie out of the oven and she drank in the smell of mincemeat and nutmeg. Ned was right; pie was the smell of home. Her home now. And why not celebrate? After all, this would be a special holiday. Her first being alive again. Her first with the grown-up Ned.

"So, you haven't told me what you want for Christmas yet," she said, adding a little teasing tone to her voice. "How can Santa shop for you? You have been a good boy this year, haven't you?"

His face went blank. "I can't think of anything. Um… maybe a new pair of pajamas or something for Digby. But only—only if you wanted to. Not really necessary." He lowered his voice and leaned across the baking table toward her. "I already have everything I want this year."

She looked down so he couldn't see her blush and was glad when he passed her to place the fresh pie on the counter with all the others.

But she knew he didn't have everything he wanted, not really. She thought of the two beds upstairs and how every night she wished it could be just one so that he could hold her as they fell asleep. How could she give him that? She slipped on plastic gloves to start slicing fruit for that day's apple-rhubarb. She felt the thin plastic between her fingers and wondered if they made pajamas out of the material. Of course, if it encased an entire body, the person wearing it would suffocate. Not good.

That's when she remembered a conversation a few weeks back with one of many of the salesmen who showed up in the Pie Hole. He'd talked endlessly about a new microfabric —ridiculously thin and yet tightly knit —that he had tried peddling to the speed skating industry. "But it's perfect as it's almost completely waterproof ," he whined as he wolfed down his second piece of pumpkin-apple. "And at the same time, it allows the skin to breath."

_That's it_! she realized. Now, if only she could remember where she'd put that business card that he'd insisted on giving her…

Christmas Eve had been busier than either one of them had expected. Every time it seemed the dining area had started to empty out, another large party came though the door. Yet everyone seemed in such a festive mood that Chuck couldn't help joining in with the customers' laughter and their parting good wishes. Well past 10 p.m., Ned finally flipped the "Closed" sign and posted an extra sign that said they'd be closed the next day.

Upstairs in their bedroom, Chuck nervously approached Ned with a shirt box wrapped in deep green paper and a vibrant yellow bow.

"Merry Christmas," she said, unable to stop the shy smile crossing her face.

"Shouldn't we wait for tomorrow morning?" he asked, looking quite doubtful. For a minute, she thought he'd refuse to open it.

"Not for this gift," she said. "It's a Christmas Eve gift."

As he tore the ribbon and ripped back the paper, she wondered how he would react. Would he think her too brazen? Laugh at her? She couldn't stand that. Suddenly, she wished she could grab the package back… but it was too late. He held up the glossy fabric.

"What is it?"

"Think of it as a bee suit combined with pajamas," she said. "Only with these pajamas, we can snuggle all nightlong." She hesitated, her heart fluttering with the horrible possibility that he would say "no." So she added, "But only if you want to."

He smiled at it so long that she started to wonder what he was thinking. Then he jumped up and headed for the bathroom. "I'll put it on right now."

She had to admit, he looked kind of funny in it when he came back out. Like he should be wearing speed skates. And over his face was a thin, but durable plastic, not unlike their favorite Saran wrap. "For kissing," she thought, but then realized she didn't have to explain that to him.

"I had one made for me too," she said. "So we can take turns."

It felt almost strange for him to crawl in bed with her. She turned out the lights and his long, strong arms went around her. Even in her imagination, she hadn't known how good this would feel. How amazing his lanky body would feel next to her. How much they could touch without skin actually touching skin. And even though their pajamas were a barrier to their ultimate Christmas wish, they didn't sleep for a long, long time, rejoicing in finally being able to touch, kiss and wrap their bodies around each other.

Just before they drifted off to sleep, the spooning Ned put his lips to her ear. "Thank you," he whispered. "This is the best Christmas gift I could have wished for."


End file.
